Just tell me I’m not a lost cause. Tell me eternity is long enough For me to make things right. That the stars will not judge me from their seats in the night. Tell me love is the cleanser, … Continue reading »POEM: Precipice
Carve out my heart, and serve it with vinegar Keep it in a jar of for-mal-de-hyde Cut out my heart, and cherish it savagely, Put it up with the other jars, side by side. … Continue reading »POEM: Dégustation
When she was 21 she bought a gun and posed with it in pictures uploaded to the internet. She dyed her hair hot pink and tied it up in pigtails with some baubles that sparkled and glowed in the … Continue reading »POEM: Queen
Death in the back of a jazz club. Low lights Glass of red wine on the table Cheap All his cash spent on a Cadillac. The band plays on without him Crooning their eulogies in the night A woman weeps … Continue reading »POEM: Grace Note
A thousand fears my lover has survived Each night has heaped harsh troubles on his breast And all his life, of warmth and love deprived, No night has ever granted him his rest. Together we were trapped in love’s … Continue reading »POEM: Untitled Sonnet
A star The black A step A breath The Beautiful People are gathered tonight A glance A bow The breeze So sweet The Beautiful People, so graceful, so bright The silk The wine She turns He smiles The Beautiful People … Continue reading »POEM: The Beautiful People
Today the sky is grey, as in my heart, And ever stronger blows the winter wind, And one begins to doubt the clouds will part Above a world whose people so have sinn’d. Alone my heart will brave the … Continue reading »POEM: Winter, a Sonnet
See the dead on celluloid Dancing for a coin Down the shadows come, Hush the rhythm-drum And spirits join. See the dead on celluoid Beauty’s ashen grace Heavy footfalls crush, Upwards phantoms rush And zephyrs chase. See the … Continue reading »POEM: The Danse Macabre
Paris is for Lovers. Paris is for Jazz Guitarists, Saxophonists, Seine-side Artists Paris is for Wayward Poets, Lost Composers Modern Stoics. Paris is for Nuns and Sinners Students, Bankers, New Beginners Paris is for Virgin Marys Whores and Revolutionaries, Singers, … Continue reading »POEM: Paris is for Lovers
If you think of me, think of me in low light and filters With a glass of something louche and smoky-green And Cohen playing whiskey-voiced beneath the window. Think of me graciously. Raving and obscene I am but … Continue reading »POEM: In Low Light and Filters